Heiress Black and the Half-Blood Prince
by DaughterofDuck
Summary: Holly Potter soon finds out she's not a Potter at all. With a secret she can tell no one, she's soon thrown into a magical world all on her own. With time and Dumbledore against her, can she survive her first year of Hogwarts with her mind and life intact? Fem!Harry Harry/Snape
1. Chapter 1

It was the day of Holly Potter's tenth Birthday. As was usual, her Aunt Petunia woke up next to her husband and the sound of his snores and heavy breathing. She rolled out of bed, collected her clothes for the day and stepped into the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead. When she was sure she didn't have a hair out of place she made her way to her Darling Duddykin's room to wake him up.

Once he'd grumbled at her to go away, she made her way downstairs. Her husband's alarm would be going off soon and he would want his cooked breakfast on the table waiting. She opened the front door briefly to pick up the newspaper they had delivered every morning apart from Sundays.

As she passed the cupboard under the stairs, she gave it a firm rap and opened the vent on the door.

"Wake up!" She hissed.

"Coming Aunt Petunia." A voice mumbled from inside the cupboard.

Holly Potter was awoken, like she was every morning since she could remember, with a shriek from Aunt Petunia and a loud knocking.

Unlike every morning before, Holly felt a strange tightness in her chest. It wasn't like when Dudley stamped on the stairs and she inhaled a lungful of dust. That was almost choking and much more painful. This was more like... Maybe a tight hug. She wasn't sure what a hug felt like but she thought it might be something like how she was feeling.

Screwing up her face, Holly pondered the feeling. As she concentrated on it, it seemed to give a tug upwards.

The feeling reminded her that she had to get up if she wanted to eat this morning. She pulled out a pair of socks. They used to be Uncle Vernon's and they were much too big for her feet. She had to pull them half way up her shin so the toe didn't get away from her and trip her up.

Pushing the door to her cupboard open, she scuttled into the kitchen and took over from Aunt Petunia who gave her a sour look for taking so long. In minutes the kitchen was full of the smell of fried bacon, sausage and egg. The smell made Holly's stomach rumble and cramp but she didn't dare take a bite of any of it with Aunt Petunia's hawk-like eye watching her every move.

Four days ago Holly had tried to steal two rashers of bacon. This was the first time she had been allowed out of her cupboard for more than a bathroom break since. She was kicking her self for getting complacent because now it would be alot harder to feed herself. She thought it was probably a combination of her hunger and her imagination but she could have sworn her wrist was already more angular. She hooked a stringy auburn strand of hair behind her ear and huffed quietly to herself. She'd just have to be even more sneaky than before. She had to come up with a new plan.

Her uncle and cousin were summoned by the heady aroma of the food and stomped into the kitchen just as she was plating up. As her relatives sat at the kitchen table and practically fell on the food Holly had cooked for them, she retreated to the corner and waited for them to finish.

She kept her head down, letting her tangled hair fall over her bright green eyes and was quiet and still. Sometimes, if she concentrated enough it was almost like the Dursley's would forget she was in the room. It never lasted long enough though.

Keeping half an eye on her relatives, Holly concentrated once more on the tightness in her chest. Trying to feel it numbed the ache of her stomach somewhat, like how one pain distracted from another, so she put a great deal of focus on it.

Instead of tugging up, or forwards as the case may be as she was no longer horizontal, it seemed to pull her sideway towards the front door. It was a strange feeling. She wouldn't dare tell her Aunt or ask her what it could mean. Her Aunt and Uncle always punished her when anything strange happened.

Like when that teachers hair turned bright blue after she'd laughed at Hope for not knowing the answer to something. She did know the answer but she wasn't allowed to do better that Dudley at school and he was an idiot. Or when she'd been running away from Dudley and his gang when suddenly she'd been on the roof of the school, looking down at her cousin's fat face.

It could be that the feeling was 'strange' or 'freakish' and Holly didn't feel like getting put back in her cupboard so soon after being let out.

Soon the Dursley's were finished eating and Uncle Vernon left to drive to work. Holly cleared the table and was forced to throw the leftovers in the bin. It was hard work to keep the scowl off her face as she watched good food go to waste but she knew she just get a smack from Aunt Petunia for being ungrateful. What she should be grateful for, Holly didn't know.

Dudley was yammering away to his mother about all the things his friend Piers had that he didn't and why didn't he have it and when was he going to get it? He was going round there for a 'playdate' at ten. Petunia listened to him with half an ear but made all the appropriate 'of course Pumpkin. We'll go get one this afternoon when I pick you up' noises.

Holly watched them out of the corner of her eye as she washed and dried up the plates, before using her step stool to reach the cupboards to put them away, as Aunt Petunia flicked through her magazine. When she was done Aunt Petunia gave her a list of chores.

"Get that done and you can have some dinner tonight." She sneered down her nose at Holly.

All she could do was say "Yes Aunt Petunia." and get started with the long list of chores. She got the washing machine started on a colour wash, before going out into the back garden to get the weeding done. It wasn't too bad as she'd only done the front and back last week but there were still stubborn prickly leaves beginning to sprout. After she had thoroughly washed her hands, she pulled the colours out and carefully went through them before putting them in the dryer. She'd ruined some of Aunt Petunia's fancy expensive underwear that way and got a few harsh slaps round the face the first time she'd been told to use the dryer. By that time, Dudley had been picked up and Aunt Petunia was in the living room watching the TV.

Holly put a white wash on that consisted of Uncle Vernon's shirts and underwear and some tea towels. That gave her enough time to pull weeds from the front garden and begin lugging the heavy watering can back and forwards as she watered the front and back. Petunia made herself lunch and allowed Holly a glass of water that she had to drink right there in front of her. By that time the tumble dryer was finished and she had to get all that out and fold it up, ready to be taken upstairs. Uncle Vernon's shirts also finished but they couldn't go in the tumble dryer so she had to hang them up and thank her stars she wasn't trusted with the iron yet. Burns from that would hurt alot.

It was then she reached the final job on her list.

**• Clean and Tidy the Attic.**

No one went in the attic very often. Uncle Vernon struggled up there once a year to get the box with some Christmas decorations in it. Ones Dudley had made and a few that were Aunt Petunia's parents. All Holly knew was that it was much too high up for her to reach. Unless she fancied balancing on Dudley's wheelie chair at the top of the stairs. She was left with one unfortunate option.

"Aunt Petunia, Will you open the attic door for me and pull down the ladder, please?" She asked once her Aunt looked at her scornfully for hovering in the doorway, holding the box of cleaning supplies in one hand.

Asking for help was on Holly's all time top list of things she hated doing. It rarely got the desired result and when it did it was only if the person you asked got something out of it. Which was the case this time as Aunt Petunia got up with a huff and marched up the stairs. Holly followed at as a sedate pace as she could get away with.

She'd already opened the little square door in the ceiling when Holly reached the top of the stairs and the metal fold out ladder made clanging noises as it clicked into place.

"Well! Go on then, girl." Aunt Petunia pointed up into the darkness.

Reluctantly she put her foot on the first step. A jolt ran through her making her hesitate. The feeling that had lingered on the edges of her awareness all day grew in intensity. It was almost pulling her up.

"Go, you lazy girl. You haven't got all day!" Her aunt screeched shocking her back into movement.

Something in the attic was calling her. Cautiously she stuck her head into the dark hole and let her eyes adjust for a moment. There was nothing strange she could see. Just boxes and cobwebs and a thick layer of dust as far as the eye could see. She put her box down and pushed herself up on to her feet to get a better look.

"Don't you dare put your foot through the ceiling. You better be done by the time we're back, or else." Her Aunt called after her, followed by a clanking sound.

As Hope spun around she saw the ladder fold back up on itself and take up the space she had just come through. Then Aunt Petunia shut the door on her leaving her in almost complete darkness. And trapped. The door couldn't be opened from the inside.

The only light came from a nearly opaque sky light. Holly huffed.

"Brilliant." She whispered into the empty attic.

She decided to get the dusting done quickly and hopped to it. She kept mostly to walking on the rafters with the lightest feet she could manage. Occasionally there were thick wooden planks balanced between two of the beams for ease of movement and Holly assumed they were put there by workmen or the pervious owners of the house and not Uncle Vernon as she doubted the rafters would have taken his wait.

The box marked **Xmas Dec's **was right next to the trapdoor so Uncle Vernon could reach them without actually getting all the way into the attic. There was three more smaller boxes marked **Dudley's **and a peak inside revealed baby clothes, toys, tiny shoes and stack of certificates for participation and trying hard that day or finally understanding adding up.

There was another full of Aunt Petunia's stuff from when she was a teenager. It included some old phots but there were none of anyone who could have been Holly's mother. There was a nice one with just Aunt Petunia's parents in a garden somewhere. Her grandparents.

Her grandmother had blond hair and blue eyes like Petunia and Dudley but her face was kinder, her smile warmer. Her grandfather's hair was a darker shade of blonde, almost brown but he did have Holly's emerald eyes. She was a little disappointed neither had ginger hair like hers but maybe she got that from her father?

Holly had always thought she was the spitting image of her mother though. It was the way Aunt Petunia looked at her sometimes. Like she was looking at someone else. She'd get sad and angry at the same time and snap at Holly twice as often.

Her grandfather had an arm around her grandmother and a champagne glass in the other. Turning it over she saw a neat scrawl she had never seen before. It was feminine so she guessed it was either her mother's or her grandmother's. It said; June 1978- Rose and Joseph at Lily's Graduation party.

Her first thought was that the tradition of flower names went back further than she thought. Her second thought almost brought tears to her eyes. Lily. It had to be her mother, didn't it? Who else's graduation party would her grandparents be attending. Especially one where Petunia ended up with a photo from it.

Being careful not to fold it or bend it too much, Holly carefully put the photo into the pocket of Dudley's old oversized trousers.

Getting back to her feet she looked around again searching for whatever had been pulling up here all day. Closing her eyes she focused on the feeling once more. It pulled at her again more incessantly now she was paying close attention to it.

Over in the corner. It seemed to be particularly dark over there but as she careful navigated her way over, it seemed to brighten imperceptibly. There was a trunk. It looked old fashioned but at the same time new. As she got closer she could make out the outer surface better and saw it was made of some kind of reptile skin. But whatever it was it was big. Much bigger than the tiny grass snakes that came to talk to her sometimes. And it was a sort of iridescent blue that seemed to move into a darker purple colour as she shifted. All the fittings were brass and ornate without being too decorative.

And it hummed. Not so much that it made a sound but Holly could feel it. Almost without meaning to she was reaching for the clips to open it up. As soon as she touched it, there was a whoosh as wind wiped through her hair, but there was no where for the breeze to have come from. The clips moved by themselves and the lid to the trunk popped open.

Holding her breath, Holly opened the trunk.

Even though the trunk stood to be at least two foot deep, there seemed to be impossibly more space within. But before she could investigate the trunks depths, her attention was drawn to a thick envelope that sat on top. The paper was heavy and yellowish even though it hadn't seemed to have aged since it had been put in the truck, which Holly had to assume was ages ago.

But that wasn't what drew her attention. No, it was the inked name written across the envelope.

_Holly._

With shaking hands, Holly Potter reached forwards and plucked the envelope out from the trunk. Something came off it and brushed at the fingers, making her tense but it left as soon as it came. The envelope was sealed with wax that was a little warm to the touch. Imprinted into the red wax circle was a Fleur-de-lis with smaller leaves circling it. They might have been ivy or maybe some other flower, Holly didn't know.

Carefully, she broke the seal and puled out the thick stack of parchment from the inside. Unfolding the pages she brought them closer to her face and in the dying of the light, she made out the first words.

_To my dearest Daughter, The light of my life,_

She chocked back a sob and read on.

_Firstly, I would like to wish you a happy tenth birthday. I hope you get everything you wish for._

No one had ever wished Holly a happy Birthday before and it took her a minute to remember that, yes, it was her birthday.

_Secondly, I have to say if you are reading this letter and I am not there beside you to explain this all to you myself, that things have gone as I worried and dreaded that they would. I can not say this is the worst outcome as you are still alive to read this. More than anything in the world I would wish you alive and healthy and happy._

_This trunk has been carefully charmed to discreetly follow you where ever you may go and to stay hidden until this day. Your tenth birthday when hopefully you will be old enough to at least understand a little bit. Whoever you are living with should have sent you on your way to discovering this trunk but please know you are the only person who can open it._

_If things have gone how I fear they have then I am dead. And James Potter is too._

Holly chocked back more sobs and wiped at her nose with the sleeve of her hand-me-down t-shirt that was several sizes too big and fell off one shoulder. She wasn't going to cry over this. She'd known for years that her parents were dead.

Still she frowned at the thought of a trunk following her and hiding from the Dursley's. What did her Mother mean that the trunk had been 'charmed'?

_If he's not then he will be receiving a letter from me explaining everything right at this moment. Don't worry Darling, I've explained everything. If he is dead then the letter will self destruct so you don't have to worry about where it is either._

_Please don't hate me baby. But James Potter isn't your father and your name isn't Holly Potter._

Holly blinked and sat up straighter. For a brief moment she wondered if this was an elaborate prank by the Dursley's. Sending her up here. On her birthday that they all didn't mention. But no. It wasn't their style. It would all be too clever for them. And trunks following people sounded an awful lot like 'freakishness' that they always went on about. Even Dudley wasn't allowed to watch anything on the TV that had any... Magic in it.

_I suppose it all really started before you were born. Well, really, it started back at Hogwarts. James Potter and myself were both in Gryffindor as you've no doubt heard, but what you may not know was that James and I didn't get along very well at first. Well, to be honest I kind of hated him and his friends. They were always getting into trouble and losing house points. And they pulled awful pranks on everyone. Especially my friend Severus Snape, a Slytherin._

_I knew him from before Hogwarts and he was the first person to tell me about magic. Even if he didn't do a very good job of it at first._

Magic. Magic. The word ran through her head again and she re-read the letter to check that she had it all right. But she had. Magic. Suddenly things seemed to click into place. All the strange things. All her freakishness. Disappearing and appearing. That shrinking sweater. Her hair growing back when Aunt Petunia had loped off bits. She healed quickly and talked to snakes. And her mother was magic too.

Was that why the Dursley's hated her? They hated magic.

_Through Sev, I met another boy. Regulus Black, your godfathers brother. I don't know if anyone has talked about him at all but please don't take what they might have said to heart. Regulus was a kind boy in a difficult situation. But maybe I'm getting ahead of myself._

_People have probably told you about the wizarding war. The Light side verses the Dark. Us verse Voldemort and his bigoted followers. The Death Eaters. The War started when we were all still in school. They hated the muggleborn and thought we shouldn't be allowed to go to Hogwarts with children from Wizarding families. Some thought we shouldn't be taught magic at all or allowed to buy wands._

_Being muggleborn myself, I knew what side I was on but Regulus and Sev had a much harder time. It was dangerous in Slytherin. It was dangerous for everyone but I always got the feeling it was very tense in their common room. Voldemort was a Slytherin himself and so were many who followed him. Alot of them were from old Pureblood lines aswell._

_Severus made a lot of wrong choices but I know now that he regrets them. We haven't spoken but I know he is on the right side of things now and that is what matters to me. I hope that you have met him, or at least are aware of him. That he is alive and well. He was a very dear friend._

_Regulus on the other hand had less choice. The Black's are a very old and powerful Dark family. That is not to say they were all awful people, no matter what you have heard. But it's true that Regulus and Sirius's parents are horrible people. Their father an uninterested narcist and their mother a vile harridan of the highest order. I have never met them myself but have heard Regulus and Sirius speak of them often and it is one of the few things they ever agreed upon._

_Their mother followed the Dark Lord religiously and after Sirius ran away, she pushed her beliefs heavily on her only remaining son Regulus. He was stuck between being a dutiful son and becoming a slave to a man he didn't agree with or leaving his family with no heirs and trying to fend for himself in such a dangerous time. He had no allies on our side except me. His brother would no longer speak to him but even so Regulus was too stubborn to ask for help._

_He was forced to take the Dark Mark by his mother and began secretly trying to help our side where ever he could without being caught by either side. I didn't know this at the time and I had lost touch with my two Slytherin friends before we left school._

_I married James Potter. Under the name Lily Evans because at the time I thought that was my name. It was after I found my father's journal, which is also inside this trunk, that I learnt the truth. I wasn't muggleborn you see. I was a half-blood. My father was a squib of the Maison Royale de Sanglierre line which is basically ancient and noble by English standards. After he didn't present with magic when he was ten, they got in contact with muggles they knew in England through business and sent him across the channel to be adopted._

_Still being raised in the Wizarding world he knew the power of names and had carried out a naming ceremony on myself and your Aunt Petunia when we were born. Not even our birth certificates had out real names on them as is the ancient tradition. Only a baby's parents should know there full names until the time comes when the child can guard there own name._

_My real name is Lilliana Annamarie Maryam Maison Royale de Sanglierre and when I fell pregnant with you I was so lucky it all worked out the way it did._

_I think I loved James Potter at some point. He is funny, courageous and above all loves me dearly. I do hate myself for my betrayal but I do not regret it as it brought me you; everything I do I do for you sweetheart. A mother's love should come before all else._

_We'd been married a year when we began fighting as we never had before. We were figuratively and literally at each others throats; some hexes were even thrown back and forth. I began to think that maybe a divorce would be the best option but with the war, we all had other things on our minds._

_That was when I ran into Regulus again. He saved my life that day. We began meeting secretly. He told me what had happened to him and I helped him disseminate information in ways that couldn't lead back to him. We got closer. Closer than we had been before. Then I got Pregnant. I did a test to make sure of the paternity._

_Regulus Arcturus Black is your father._

_When I told him he was happy and upset. As far as anyone was concerned I was a muggleborn and him a Death Eater. If anyone were to find out they would come for us. Me, your father, even you. And I had no idea what James would so._

_Your father was a very clever man though. He figured out a way to keep you safe._

_My friend Marlene McKinnon, the only other person who knew about Regulus and I, covered for me and we spent the week in France, finding my family and making myself an identity using most of my real name, Lilliana Anne Sanglierre. In many ways it is true, truer than Lily Evans or Potter anyway. We married under my new name and made sure that you would be Regulus' legitimate heir when it all came out. Your father also knew a lot about questionable magic. After finding out you were to be a girl, he used a ritual to create a very strong, nearly undetectable glamour while still in vitro, so you would look exactly like me._

_The plan was to tell James once the War was over. When you would be safe to be who you truly are. What we did is technically line theft. A very serious crime in the wizarding world, that would have had us in a lot of serious trouble and probably even Azkaban._

_But then Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and a very influential person in out society, came to tell James and myself about the Prophesy made shortly before your conception._

_It talks of a child born at the very end of July. One who would grow to defeat the Dark Lord. For neither can live while the other survives._

_There were two children who the prophecy could allude to. Neville Longbottom, your God-brother and yourself. The pair of you had only been born days before and I had yet to have the opportunity to smuggle you to visit your father. Little Neville was born the day before you but I am sure that this Prophecy speaks of you and for that, I am infinitely sorry. But as you can guess, this meant me and your father would need to change the plan._

_I told your father everything Dumbledore had told us as well as my own suspicions. We knew Voldemort had heard some of the prophecy, enough to begin trying to take James and myself down as well as the Longbottoms. We began trying to prepare for your future._

_We began this trunk, filling it with everything you might need._

_If you are with James, then I trust him to make the best decisions for you no matter if you are his blood or not. He may react emotionally at first but he will calm down and I have urged him to really think about what would be best for you in the letter I sent._

_If you are with Sirius or Frank and Alice, you must decided if you trust them with this information but know that I do._

The light was quickly fading and Holly was forced to edge away from the trunk and nearer to skylight. It did little to help and she was forced to squint to make out the inked missive.

She almost couldn't believe what was written. A magic world with a Wizarding War. It was almost too much. And her mother had still not written what her name was, just that it wasn't Holly Potter. She was the daughter of Lilliana Anne Sanglierre and Regulus Arcturus Black. It was like her whole life was a lie.

And where were all these people? Fine, her Mother and James Potter were probably dead and probably not from a 'car accident' while driving drunk. But where were Frank and Alice, who she assumed were the Longbottom's considering that Neville was her God-brother. That made Alice her God-mother if Sirius was her God-father. Where were they? Why was she with her hateful Aunt?

If the war got a lot worse before it got better, because I refuse to believe it is still carrying on, and you have ended up somewhere else or with my horrible sister, then you have things to do, my darling.

_James and I were preparing to go under the Fidelus charm (a very powerful charm that can hide a small residence, so only the secret keeper can tell people where it is) when your father came to me with terrible news. Voldemort had done a most evil ritual to gain a kind of immortality. He had stored a section of his soul in an object and hidden it, it tied him to this plane of existence and stopped him from moving on. Not like a ghost, it would be possible for him to regain a body._

_We decided that it was likely that Voldemort would find a way to find us, no matter how well we hid, he would do anything within his power to find you. Your father gave me a book, one from his family library. Blood magic. All Blood magic has been illegal since 1946 after the War wi__t__h Grindelward when they labelled a whole variety of magic as Dark and illegal._

_He had a plan, a last ditch plan for if everything went wrong. There was a protection ritual that could be used to shield you from even the killing curse. It was very complicated and I will have to sacrifice my life for yours for it to activate. I do not dread my death, nor am I afraid, my darling. Anything. Anything for you. I love you more than there are stars in the sky._

Holly's breath caught and the tears she had been holding back finally trailed down her cheeks and she hastened to wipe them away in case they dripped on her treasured letter. Even as heart wrenching as it was to think of her mother giving up her life for hers, it made a warm feeling grow in her chest. This was how a mother was suppose to love their child. Even Aunt Petunia, for all her hate and bitterness, she would do anything for Dudley.

_It took two months for me to do the arithmancy calculations and by that time..._

The handwriting seemed to change subtly and the ink ran thicker for a few letters.

_...Regulus was dead._

_He had found one you see. The soul piece, a horcrux, and went after it to destroy it and hopefully find clues to how many he had made and where they might be. He never came back and I know if he were alive, he would have found a way to contact me. He was ever so clever. He would have found a way._

_This left you as his secret heir and you will not appear on family records or tapestries until you lift the glamour. There used to be a lot of people in House Black but a most of them ended up dead or in prison, so I have no idea where you will come in terms of House Black's inheritance._

_I had to carry out our plan alone. If things have gone as I fear, Holly Potter defeated Voldemort when he came for us and likely left you orphaned. But as I know, and now you do as well, he will not be truly dead. Just waiting, trying to gain power so he can come back. It is also likely at least some of his supporters are not behind bars. You probably have a giant target on your back and the Headmaster is probably up to his ears with plans for you. I do not trust Dumbledore to have your best interest at heart. Maybe the press have already made you into some kind of celebrity._

_This is not a life I want for you and neither did your father._

_Your father and I have left you books and instructions on a wide variety of things to help you. You must train your magic no matter what you choose. You are in danger and I am no longer there to protect you and there are few people I trust in this world to look after you._

Holly could hardly make out the rest as the last of the light was gone with the setting sun. She gave a look round the attic as best as she could in the darkness. It was visibly tidier than when she had come up there that afternoon and she doubted her Aunt or Uncle would climb all the way up to see how good a job she'd done.

She went back over to the trunk. Was it possible that one of the things she might need was a torch? She could hardly see inside at that point but she felt around and found rolls of parchment sealed with wax and a large selection of heavy books. It was then that her fingers brushed something wooden. Reaching for it she pulled out the stick.

It was then that she remembered people not wanting muggleborns to buy wands. Was that what this was? Running through her fingers, she could feel the smooth surface and the intricate designs on what she took to be the handle. Holding it in her hands she felt the familiar brush of what she now knew to be magic echo through her hand from the wand.

Red and blue sparks shot out the end, making her jump. It liked her. She could just tell. It was kind of like the wand was waving at her. Thinking that maybe she could do magic with it.

"Light." She said shaking it a little away from her face.

Nothing happened. Except it felt like maybe the wand was laughing at her now. Holly frowned. She didn't like it when people laughed at her.

"Light!" She hissed in frustration, imagining a bright enough light to read by.

A pale light began to glow at the very tip of the wand. It felt like it was humouring her. Like maybe she hadn't got the words right but it gave her what she needed anyway. She scowled at the light but it didn't dim so she pointed it at her letter so she could continue reading. It took her a minute to find her place.

_Firstly, you must choose whether to be Holly Potter or to give up that identity and become your father's daughter. Holly Potter could disappear and everyone might worry what happened to her but you will be safe, if you are not already._

Holly didn't really have to decided. She wasn't safe here. And it seemed like Holly Potter might not be safe anywhere.

_The instructions to remove the glamour spells are in one of the scrolls your father left you. But there are things you must do before you can do that. When the glamour is released you will appear on all the magical records in this country. No one should notice you appearance accept possibly Walburga, Regulus' mother. Regulus also wrote about three pages on how you should handle his mother if she is still alive. I think he wrote one about his father too but he died two weeks ago so don't have to worry about him._

_Before you can do that you must begin to learn Occlumency. It is detailed further in the book on the subject but basically its a way to protect your mind against intruders who may view your memories. You must protect the knowledge left to you in this trunk as well as your identity._

_It will be hard work but hopefully you take after your father, who was quite naturally skilled with the mind arts. Follow the excises so you can begin to protect your mind against a gentle intrusion that Dumbledore so favours. Only then can you risk removing the glamour. That should keep you safe until you can master the skill, and defend again more malicious attacks, which I suggest you do._

_I have left you some French primers so you can learn the language which should come quicker as you improve in your Occlumency. In the trunk are my papers with my real name as well as a birth certificate with the name chosen by me and your real father. It says you were born in Bordeaux, France on the 1st of August. I have also included a fake death certificate of the highest quality for myself dated two months before your tenth birthday._

_It is all for the cover I have devised for you. Regulus sent us out of the country when he found out I was pregnant. We got married and he returned to fight for his Lord. When he died I decided to hide you until you were old enough to go to Hogwarts, as your father would have wanted. Unfortunately, I died of dragon pox and you have decided to make your own way to England to find your fathers family and take your rightful place as a lady of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. You are in fact travelling across France as you read this letter._

_Use the primers as best you can to learn the language as though you have lived among the people. When you are far enough with your occlumency you will be able to use your father's Knowledge Crystals. He took them from the Black Family Vault without permission from his mother and smuggled them to me, with instructions on how to use them. He told me they contained information on Politics, History of the Wizarding world and the Blacks in particular, etiquette, Music, French, Latin and the basics of magic. Everything a Pureblood of good quality should know. They maybe a little out of date so you must find out what has changed in the last ten years._

_Once you are fluent in French and have gotten far enough with your mind magics, which you must do before June next year as the Hogwarts letters will be set out, then you can do the ritual to remove the glamour and find one of the Black Family Homes. Another of the scrolls have the instructions on where to find the house in London and how to access the wards so they don't think you're an intruder. Trust me, the Blacks are famous for being paranoid and I wouldn't want to find out what they would do to you if you don't follow the instructions exactly._

Holly moved the wand back over the trunk to get a better look inside. There was a thinner book sitting on top of one of the piles. It had a black leather cover with no title. Picking it up, she could tell the pages were thin as it flopped to one side and quickly put it back in case she damaged it. Looking back at the letter she continued reading.

_It is my hope that his mother is long dead. If anyone deserves it, it is her, even if she is your grandmother. That would mean that the house is empty apart from maybe Kreature, the Black family House Elf that had a soft spot for Regulus and will surely look after you._

_Once you are settled, you should go to Gringotts bank and see the Goblins. Regulus left you a vault and you should talk to the Goblins about emancipation. If they will not allow it, as a last resort, contact Severus. Do not tell him everything, straight away. Just your cover story and that you are Regulus' daughter. He is not an openly emotional man but I believe he would be a guardian to you. I hear that he will soon be teaching at Hogwarts and if he is still there that will probably help him make the decision in your favour. I won't lie, it is a risk. But you will be in a powerful position as a Lady of House Black. Use that to your favour when ever you can._

_Try to make good friends._

_I am trying to think of what else to write. What else you might need to know. I am also looking down into your sweet face and trying to imagine the ten year old reading this letter. I have done all I can to protect you, to my death and beyond._

_Be careful. Be cunning. Be clever. Above all be brave and remember you are loved. So much._

_Your Loving Mother. X_

She blinked back more tears. It was all just so much. Everything she thought she knew about herself was wrong. She didn't even have a name anymore.

Putting the letter aside, she use the dim light from the wand to give the insides of the trunk a proper look. Moving aside some of the scrolls she found her Mother's birth and fake death certificate. And under it her own.

Alya Lilliana Black.

Born the first of August 1980 in Bordeaux, France. That was something at least. She was Alya. Not her full name but it was probably in the papers somewhere. Probably something to be left alone until she guard her mind.

She couldn't bring the trunk downstairs with her, it would never fit in her cupboard with her in there as well. She'd have to figure out a way to get back up here.

Downstairs she heard the front door opening and the Dursley's coming home. Quickly using the wand light, Alya checked the books for the word Occlumency. The floppy book she'd picked up before was handwritten when she opened it but she spotted the word and tucked it in the top of her trousers, hiding it under her over sized top. Pocketing her mothers letter and the wishing the wand would turn off, which it did.

Shoving it in her pocket as well, the attic door opened and the stairs made the familiar clanking sounds as they were pulled down.

"Well, are you done?" Her Aunt shrieked up the stairs.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." She called closing the trunk behind her and watching as it locked itself.

She would find a way back.


	2. Chapter 2

The main problem was that the attic was near impossible for her to get into and out of without anyone noticing. She wasn't allowed to stay in the house alone unless she was locked in her cupboard. Her best bet would be to move the trunk out of the attic and put it somewhere more accessible. But her cupboard was too small to fit the trunk and herself. So really she needed more space.

Dudley had a second bedroom he hardly used. It even had an old bed in there. The question was how could she move herself out of the cupboard and into the bedroom upstairs?

She needed to figure out what the Dursley's really wanted. They wanted more money to buy more stuff, but she didn't think it was really about the stuff itself. Dudley and Petunia in particular liked to brag about the new stuff they had. It was about them having some way to show everyone how much better than them they were. They were nice, normal, middle-class suburbia. They were the image of a hardworking father, a doting mother and a perfect son. With the freaky niece to ruin everything.

There didn't seem like much she could give them in exchange except her absence and she couldn't leave until she had mastered Occlumency, French and leaned the magic to open the door to her father's house. She didn't have any money to give them, nor could she heighten their reputation and she couldn't possibly do any more chores than she was doing already.

She gave a small frustrated huff as she leaned over and carried on pulling weeds for the front garden and worked on her occlumency exercises. It was all about visualisation and emotional control. When she felt a feeling she had to ask herself what the feeling was and why she was feeling it. Occlumency was mostly about knowing your own mind and emotional reactions. Her frustration wasn't helping so she cleared her thoughts and tried to put the feeling to one side and concentrated on her problem in a logical and controlled manner.

Emotional control, the book said, was important for magical control and the author suggested teaching the meditation techniques to all children when they started having bouts of accidental magic. She thought that she'd had practise in emotional control all her life living with the Dursley's. Alya had never been allowed to show how she felt. She couldn't laugh when happy, cry when sad or frown when angry without getting punished, so she'd stopped doing that a while ago.

She'd began to move on to her mindscape and creating a place in her mind to store information and memories in an organized and logical manner. She'd started molding it in the shape of Privet drive and the surrounding streets. She knew the area so well it was easy to remember how things fit to together. She started storing things she learnt in school in the empty school building, filling the desks and walls with pictures and objects that symbolized or showed what she had learnt. She put boring memories of chores in The Dursley's house and all the awful memories in her cupboard and she put a huge imaginary lock on it.

When she was more proficient she would learn to put traps to keep away intruders, but at the moment she hoped that the repetitive nature of suburban streets would disorientate anyone who tried to get in her mind.

Mrs Number Sixteen walked past then pushing her stroller. She gave Alya a nasty look down her nose before looking away like she couldn't bare to rest her eyes upon her. Alya understood that she was dirty from gardening in the sweltering heat and her clothes were too big, ripped and frayed. What she doesn't understand is how anyone can think that this was her fault? The Dursley's gave her Dudley's old clothes and sent her out into the garden to work like a slave. They were all convinced Petunia was such a saint to let a trouble maker like her into her house, such a perfect housewife.

Maybe that was the way to get what she wanted?

Maybe it wasn't about giving the Dursley's something, maybe it was about taking it away like they always did her. Aunt Petunia's reputation was everything to the woman. And the garden she sat in now was a big part of that. Aunt Petunia's award winning garden that was perfect through Alya's blood, sweat and tears.

She looked down at the soil between her fingers and the flowers at her knees. A plan began to form. How to play this? Did she ask first? Probably, so her Aunt understood what was happening. That it was happening on purpose. To test her plan, Alya reached forward and grasped the stem of the flower in front of her. Pulling at the power of her magical core she concentrated on the flower in front of her, imagining it wilting and drying out and turning brown. Dying. It didn't take long for her power to rush down her arm and into the plant and it all but crumbled into dust between her fingers.

Perfect.

This would be dangerous, she knew that. But she had less than a year to get ready and she couldn't afford to waste time. And this was all good practise for controlling her magic and emotions. She leaned back sitting on her legs and closed her eyes. Sinking into her Occlumency took less time than she thought it would, but right now she needed it, she willed it in place with a strength she hadn't before.

She felt almost outside of her body as she pushed herself to her feet and turned to enter the house. Aunt Petunia was sitting at the kitchen table with her magazine and a cup of tea. With an eerie calm, she stood across from her Aunt; her hands at her sides. Some of her magic seemed to leak into the air, electrifying it.

Petunia looked up at her. There was something in her eye for a second. Then they narrowed again and her lips pinched.

"What do you want, girl." She spat.

"Give me Dudley's second bedroom, or I'll ruin your garden." She said in a clear and even voice.

She stood up from her seat.

"What did you say, girl?"

"Give me Dudley's second bedroom or I'll ruin your garden." She grit her teeth slightly that time.

Her Aunt moved faster than Alya had seen her move before and slapped her round the face. She could feel the sting echo though one side of her face. It made her angry.

"Go and finish your chores." She hissed in her face.

The anger beat like a drum inside her chest but she kept a tight hold of her magic as she walked out of the kitchen into the garden and released it on the flowers. Like Death, they wilted in her presence and the very air seemed to chill a few degrees.

Turning back around, she marched back into the kitchen once more.

"Give me Dudley's second bedroom or I'll ruin the back garden."

Her Aunt froze. Then she was taking long strides out the front door. She shrieked. A distant part of her wanted to laugh but she wasn't done yet. When her aunt rushed back in, slamming the door behind her, she was met by Alya's stony face.

"You little bitch!" Her Aunt screeched again. "After all we've done for you.-"

"You've done the bare minimum to keep me alive." She cut her Aunt off before she could go into a full blown rant into what a freak like her deserved.

"Get in your cupboard! When Vernon gets home-" But she was interrupted again.

"Give me Dudley's second bedroom." When her Aunt made to grab her, Alya ducked under her hand and ran out into the back garden.

Quicker than her Aunt could reach her, she was reaching out with her magic to kill the grass and the flowers out here as well. Like dominos they fell, the brown rippling down the garden like a wave. Her Aunt grabbed her from behind and dragged her back into the house by her elbow.

Alya let her, she'd shown she was very serious. She stumbled through the kitchen and Petunia had to let her go to wrench the cupboard door open. She was shoved in and the door slammed behind her. It seemed she would have to up her game and wait for her Uncle to get home.

Petunia banged about the kitchen for the rest of the day. When Uncle Vernon got home enough time had past that she had begun to lose focus and fear began to creep in. She'd been punished for her freakiness before. Days on days without food, locked inside her cupboard. She was pretty sure she could get out and steal some food if she wanted to, and she would later, but what really scared her was that this time she might get more than a slap or a shove.

He came home announcing his arrival as usual. Then he obviously caught sight of Aunt Petunia's, no doubt, pinched face. She heard Petunia's hiss as she told Vernon what she'd done. Then there were heavy footsteps coming towards her. The door was ripped open and a meaty fist grabbed her arm and heaved her out of her cupboard.

She was shoved back against the wall, her head bouncing against it and her legs scrambling to get under her. His face was rapidly changing from a bright red to a deep purple.

"How dare you use your freakishness against us!" Spittle flew in her face and the grip on his arm tightened cutting off blood to her arm and making it tingle.

His other fist flew at her, slamming into the side of her face and sending her tumbling to the ground. The arm in his hand twisted as she fell and he let go at the last second so it didn't snap in his hand. Her hip and elbow blossomed with pain as she hit the ground. A foot kicked her other hip and she bit her lip so as not to cry out.

Collecting her thoughts and reaching for her magic, she turned to her uncle. She had to stop him.

He made a funny chocking noise and grasped at his chest. Instantly she knew what she was doing and focused her magic on his heart. Petunia stood behind him and gave another shriek. Dudley too stood in the kitchen watching on with round eyes as his father doubled over.

"Vernon!" She reached for his shoulder.

Alya got back on her unsteady feet. "Give me Dudley's second bedroom."

Petunia's head twisted to look at her. Realisation crossed her face as Vernon wheezed and clasped at his chest, the purple of his face turning to blue.

"This is you!" She accused.

"Give me Dudley's second bedroom." She enunciated each word.

Vernon was looking at her too as he fell to his knees, fear creeping on his sweaty face as he realised that she might just kill him. She let her magic pulse, giving his heart another squeeze. He chocked and again and panted, nearly falling to the ground. Watching him gasp like a fish on land seemed to just egg her power on and it swirled around her lifting her hair away from her face.

"Fine! Fine! Have the room!" Her Aunt finally gave in and Alya let go of the magic and her uncle collapsed.

Her aunt tried to pull Vernon up and bring him to sit in the living room. Alya just opened her cupboard and grabbed her few belongings. With her small pile of clothes and the book and wand from her trunk in her arms she went upstairs and entered Dudley's second bedroom, her bedroom.

Her breath was coming fast and the adrenalin still rushed through her system, making laughter bubble up from her chest. She'd done it. She had made them give her the room. And they were scared. So scared, and they'd known all along what she was capable of. There were no questions of how; they knew all this time.

She put her anger to one side and vowed not to let them forget why they should fear her.

Now all she needed was the trunk from the attic and a way to bring it down the stairs.

The thought itself seemed to summon it as it appeared at the foot of her bed. A smile crept on to her face. She'd done it. Putting her things into her trunk to protect them Alya felt a wave of tiredness sweep over her and practically collapsed into bed.

Alya stuck to the plan set out by her parents. She fully investigated the trunk and practised her Occlumency and French until she could use the knowledge crystals and learn in her sleep. Her mindscape filled with information on the Wizarding world and the more she learnt the quicker it seemed to come to her. A miniature Big Ben on number seven's lawn showed that all her political knowledge was stored inside. Number twelve turned into a gothic castle hybrid with stone brick walls and two little turrets to house everything she knew about Hogwarts. Any words written in her mindscape were translated into French as her language skills grew.

Her relatives kept away from her after that and her chores were stiped back so she spent most of her time in her room. If she entered a room they were in Dudley would blanche and quickly exit, Petunia would pale, pinch her lips and turn away. Vernon went a bright red colour and began to grumble about freaks in his house. When he got to loud about it, she would look him dead in the eye and summon her power to flit around him in warning and he would shut up quickly.

She took whatever food she liked and slowly made her way up to being able to eat a full meal and began putting on a little weight. She ate in her room, over her many books and scrolls, absorbing the lessons her parents thought important.

Her mother was just as kind in everything she wrote, leaving little notes in the corners and margins of the books to tell her where the author had been wrong or where things could be improved or explaining some vague point in more detail. Her mother had been a genius.

Her father was slightly more reserved, more calculating, more cautious. Most of his notes were on Occlumency, Defensive and protective spells and ways to hide or encode data. It seemed he had invented a lot of spells in that area. _Black family secrets, he wrote, just between you and me. _

It only took her three months until she felt ready to leave. She could feel her Occlumency shields and was able to hold them in place for three or four hours before she began to feel a drain on her magic. She knew french as well as she knew english and the accent came just as naturally. She hadn't seen her relatives in three days, she'd taken to feeding herself in the middle of the night before she went under to use the crystals. She did hear them making noises that let her know they were going out to eat dinner out. It was perfect for her.

The ritual her father had written out didn't tell her how long it might take but he did say that it would hurt, alot. She took out a white pillar candle and the potions vile that housed a sample of her fathers blood under a statis charm. Her father's instructions were very clear. His hand was tall and thin, fluid in a way her mother's hadn't been. She could tell he'd wrote with a quill his whole life. She'd been practising but her handwriting was still a bit shaky and uneven. She was practising a lot though. She hadn't used a pen in months, except at school when she bothered to go. Muggle school seemed like a waste of her time when she knew she would be leaving for a whole other world soon.

She took off Dudley's oversized clothes and let them fall in a pile on her bed. She lit the candle with her wand and placed in in front of her as she sat cross legged on the ground. Pulling the cork from the vial, she broke the seal and the charm on it.

Dipping her finger into her father's blood she began drawing the first rune across her chest. Mannaz sat between her collar bones signifying knowledge and the true self. Pertho followed on her left over her ribs symbolizing Secrets and new birth. Nauthiz on her right standing for necessity and destiny. And finally Othilia for inheritance and strengthening family ties, just above her belly button. As she finished the last run, Alya felt the magic in her body and the air pick up and flow around her.

"In the names of my fathers before me, in the name of the blood within and without, in the name of magic, I release these binds." She intoned letting her magic fill her body.

"I release these binds. I release these binds." She repeated as the magic built and built.

With the final word, her magic rose and swelled. Her body seemed to stretch and warp. Pain lanced through her every nerve ending and she convulsed. Her body was thrown back beyond her control and her head slammed on the floor. She didn't know how long she was on the floor staring unseeing at the ceiling as her muscles tensed and relaxed out her control. She kicked the candle over but was unaware as it guttered out and rolled away.

When the gut wrenching pain finally faded, Alya began to pull herself together. The first thing she really noticed was that her skin was paler. She pulled herself up right on shaky sore limbs. When she got her legs under her it took her a minute to get her balance. She was taller.

She pulled herself across the walls and entered the bathroom to get a proper look at her face. Before she'd had slightly wavy long ginger hair, with bright green eyes and a handful of freckles over her nose. She'd been quite small for her age with a roundness to her cheeks that no amount of starvation had diminished.

Now her face was longer, high sharp cheekbones cut an elegant line, her lips had thinned slightly but they had darkened as well. Against the porcelain of her skin, they stood out like blood on snow. Her eyes had changed to a cool ice grey, equally as striking as the green before. Her hair was now jet black and hung in loose ringlets around her shoulders. Some things were still the same, the almond shape of her eye, her small button nose, the slight roundness of her chin.

She doubted she would have recognized the similarities if it wasn't her own face. Even her Aunt and Uncle could probably walk past her on the street and never bat an eye. She looked completely different. It was incredible. Obviously she took after her father.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way back to her room. Putting on the deep purple dress that had been left in the trunk for her. It resized itself around her body to fit. All she could think was how much she loved magic. She took the long trek on sore legs down the stairs and stole the rest of the loaf of bread, a whole packet of cooked ham, the cheese, an unopened bottle of water and what was left of the milk. Bringing it all upstairs, she loaded her haul into her trunk along with everything she owned.

She didn't know how long it would take for the Dursley's to notice she was missing but it might take as long as a week if they dissmissed the food she stole. And they probably would given hw scared of her they all were. Any description they gave to police, or wizards if they came looking, would be of a different girl. They'd all be looking for Holly Dorea Potter but that girl was dead. Alya Lilliana Black had been born in her place.

She kept the wand in her pocket even though she only knew a few minor hexes. It was the power of the thing, her weapon.

The trunk was as light as air when she picked it up and made her way out of Number Four Privet Drive for the last time. She locked the door behind her with wandless magic and made her way down the street. First she walked into town and caught a train to London using money she had stolen from her Aunt and Uncle. Her father had written about the many forms of Wizarding transportation. Apparating like she had accidentally done to escape her cousin and had ended up on the school roof, Floo, which was walking into one fireplace and getting spat out at another and most importantly the Knight Bus. Emergency travel for the distressed wizard.

Alya figured she shouldn't pick up the Knight bus in Surrey though, since someone might remember a girl alone leaving Surrey around the same time Holly Potter went missing so she was sticking to muggle travel for the first part of her journey.

From London she got on a different train down to Folkstone. It was a major port with lots of ships of all kinds going in and out all the time. Lots of them coming from France. She planned to tell anyone who asked that she had stowed away on one of them to make the crossing to England. She'd looked up all the information on Dudley's computer before deleting the browser history. Her French accent was excellent and she planned to drop it slowly over the years, like her father had suggested. He was a man who thought about details.

It was night time before the train reached Folkstone. She made her way towards the port and looked for a place slightly secluded so she could summon the bus. Once she found an empty street not far from the water she pulled out her wand.

Pointing it at the road, she was immediately knocked from her feet as the triple decked purple bus appeared in front of her.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board and we can take you anywhere you want to go." A man droned looking down at the piece of paper in his hands.

Alya stood quickly and smoothed out her dress.

"Yes, yes." She said in a tired, strongly French accented voice. "'Ow much too Grimmauld Place, London?"

She didn't pick up her case, her etiquette training telling her that a lady never carried her trunk if she didn't have to. The wizard was staff and would load her case. It was weird but she made herself do it as if she had done so her whole life. Like she didn't know what it was like to slave in the garden or in the kitchen.

"That'll be five sickles and twelve knuts, Miss."

She gave him a Galleon and accepted a large handful of coins. Looking them over she made sure he hadn't short changed her; as she didn't have alot of wizard money. Only ten Galleons were left in the trunk to tied her over until she could make it to Gringotts. Leaving her trunk on the pavement she strode inside the bus and sat down on one of the beds, holding firmly on to the railing. It was supposed to be a very rocky ride.

The Wizard loaded her trunk and shouted through to the driver where she wanted to go. The bus took off at break neck speeds and she had to look away from the window, as the scenery sped past her at a blur. The bed she sat on had jolted, hitting another bed and the wall, sending it spinning for a moment. Wizards were crazy. Maybe she should have just got the train and wandered around London until she found it.

Twenty minutes of sharp turns and insane speed, she was let out in a col-de-sac surrounding a small communal garden. She could tell immediately that the area use to be well to do but had declined recently. The Wizard put her case on the floor beside her.

"You'll be alright, Little miss? Someone waiting for you?" He inquired out of concern and not just to be nosey.

"Oh, Wee Monsieur. Thank-you." She lifted her trunk and walked towards the houses, feeling a great gust of wind as the bus took off again.

It only took her a few moments to find number twelve. She could feel the oppressive magic surrounding the property and wondered if the muggles could too. She thought the magic was probably the wards her mother and father had warned her about.

She stopped at the bottom of the stoop and opened her trunk to pull out her father's instructions to read them once more in the street light.

_Alya, my star, the wards around any of the Black properties are not to be fooled with. My father's house, my house, above all. My father is quite paranoid and has added many lethal spells to the mix. Your first course of action should be to send a pulse of magic through your wand or your finger to the ward. Its the magical equivalent to ringing the door bell_.

She did this and waited for an answer. She didn't expect one. Her grandfather was dead before her mother and she thought, and maybe hoped, her grandmother soon followed. When no answer came she let out a breath and carried on where she left off.

_If you get no answer then you must access the wands and open the house yourself. There is a silver door knocker in the shape of two serpents intertwined. Cut your hand and place your hand upon it. The snakes will taste your blood and allowed you entry when you say 'With the Blood of Black, grant me passage.' The wards should let you in._

It then went on to list the ways to access other properties that the black family owned and who might be staying in them.

Following his instructions she pulled out a sharp knife she had stolen and cut her palm. Walking up the steps to the black door she grasped the silver knocker before the magic building around her could push her away or something worse.

"With Blood of Black, grant me passage." The snakes beneath her hand writhed into life and wound around her hand, their silver tongues flicking out at her blood as it dripped down her wrist.

The door opened a crack with a thump and the dank air rushed out to meet her. Running down the stairs to pick up her trunk she pushed the door open and went inside. With the door closed behind her she pulled out her wand to use the cleaning and healing spell her father had written down and she had practised, to heal her hand.

"Lumos." She said, picturing the light and looked around at the dusty interior.

It was dark and dank and smelt as though someone might have died a while ago. As she took a step forward the gas lights in the front passage sprung to life. Cobwebs hung thick on the ceiling and the walls. Grime ran around the edges from whatever magical pests had taken up residence. It would need work but at least it wasn't the Dursley's.

A movement in front of her caught her attention. It's skin hung loose off of it's body, large floppy ears hung low around it's chin, bulbous eyes narrowed suspiciously as the creature took her in. A House Elf. Kreature.

"Who would dare defile Mistress's home? Who would dare break in to the grand House of Black?" It cocked its head to the side.

She couldn't tell if it was talking to itself or her but she answered anyway before it could try to oust her.

"Alya Lilliana Black of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Regulus Black's daughter and heir." She rose her chin and looked down her nose at the raggedy thing before her.

House elves were servants but they were powerful and loyal. With Kreature around, looking after herself got a whole lot easier.

"Master Regulus had a daughter? Why did Master Regulus not tell Kreature?" It mumbled.

"I don't know, Kreature but my Mother and I were hiding in France. Mother is dead now and I will be staying here. You will serve me."

"Dark times, dark times." He agreed. "Come, you must speak to Mistress."

"She's still alive?" She asked as she made to follow the Elf.

"Oh no, Mistress Alya. Here." He pointed to a painting on the wall.

The curtains that covered it opened and revealed Mrs Black in all her glory. Slightly plump with a long pointed nose she looked down on Alya as if assessing her with cold grey eyes.

"You are Regulus's daughter?" The imperial woman asked.

"Yes, Grandmother. Alya Lilliana Black." She answered dropping into the curtsy she had been practising.

Keeping her back straight and her knees and head bent she gracefully rose and saw mild approval in the middle aged woman's eyes.

"French?" She asked sharply.

"Yes, Grandmother. Mere was French and we stayed there during the war and after when father did not come for us."

The painting pursed her lips.

"You will work on loosing the dreadful foreign accent won't you dear? You're in England now."

"Yes, Grandmother."

"And you are a Pureblood, of course?"

"Of course, Grandmother. My mother was from an offshoot of Maison Royale de Sanglierre " That was partially a lie, but it would be hard for someone to track her Mother's heritage.

She'd read about her Grandmother. Her Father had gone into great detail what she believed in and what she had forced her Father and Uncle through when they were children. So desperate to keep the blood pure she married her cousin, well that and so one half of the family to wrestle control from the other.

"Good." She spoke in a clipped tone. "Then Kreature will help you settle in. It's late and you have no doubt had a long journey."

She nodded and bid her grandmother goodnight.

Kreature told her she would sleep in Master Regulus's room for the night and he would have a fresh room for her in the morning.

"When was the last time you cleaned anything Kreature. I want you to begin cleaning the house and making a list of anything we need. There is breakfast food in the trunk and I want to be woken up at seven tomorrow. I must go to Gringotts, I'll get what we need then, after I'm done with the Goblins."

The elf did look around them ashamed as they walked up the dusty stairs. It was probably only the magic layered on the place that kept the building from just collapsing on itself.

Her father's room was at least clean, but it was noticeably that of a teenager. Clearly Slytherin in colour scheme, it had a soft looking bed and a mess of knickknacks. Newspapers from Voldemort's movement were stuck to the walls and filled the desk. Quidditch featured here and there.

She didn't look around too much and simply got into the very comfy bed and drifted to sleep, knowing she had a lot to do in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

A layer of dust had been removed from every room and hallway she entered. It was still no where near habitable and she wouldn't want to go exploring just yet, but there was visible improvement. Alya decided she would have Kreature give her a tour when she could find the time. Hopefully by then it would be even cleaner. Still, he had obviously made progress.

She praised him and asked if he had made the list like she had asked. He had and she briefly looked over it as he led her down to the family dinning room. The table sat ten but could probably squeeze a few more if it was necessary. As the only family member in residence, she sat at the head of the dark, oak table. The plates, knifes, forks and candle holders were all silver and ornate. Even under the decades of disuse she could tell the house used to have a haunted opulence. The Blacks were clearly rich and had been rich for some time now. She knew as much, from her lessons she had the entire Black family history memorised and not all of it was public knowledge.

She briefly imagined what Black Manor must look like.

Kreature popped back with ham and cheese sandwiches and a glass of milk, looking thoroughly put out by the lack of proper breakfast he was able to provide.

"Don't worry Kreature, once I have access to my money I will call you at the bank and send you off for groceries." She said as she browsed the list to the side of her plate.

Mostly she needed food, but they also needed cleaning supplies and pesticides. It seemed that a Doxy infestation had gotten quite out of hand on the upper floors and Kreature had focused his efforts on keeping them out of the Library. Kreature thought there were at least three Boggarts so she'd have to learn how to get rid of them since Kreature seemed to think that was her job. She also needed clothes and robes. She probably wouldn't need any more books though.

"'Ow has the Library held up?" She asked absently.

"It's in excellent condition, Mistress." He gave a low nod.

"Good." She said shortly as she finished off her sandwiches.

Alya had the vault key to her trust fund from her trunk, but her father said she would probably have other inheritances to look into aswell. Her father had left her a small cottage in France and a small fortune, but other relatives may have left him other things and therefore her.

She pushed away from the table and made sure her wand was still in her pocket.

"Wait, Mistress can't go like that!" Kreature almost screeched.

She looked down at the dress she had worn the day before.

"I've grown out of everything else Kreature. I'll be getting new robes today." She huffed.

"Kreature will shrink something for Mistress." He was already popping away and she sighed and made her way back up to her Father's room.

A set of fancy silk robes were waiting on the bed. They were a dark grey colour with black embroidery running around the edges in the shape of vines with the occasional ivy leaf sprouting from it. Stripping off her dress, she pulled on the perfectly fitting robes. She looked much more like a Black now.

Kreature had been right, she thought as she looked at her new self in the full length mirror

It turned out there was a small amount of Floo powder left but it was one more thing to stock up on. She took a handful with her in a pouch Kreature gave her so she could get back. At the moment, the wards around the house only let her inside, because it could tell she had Black blood, so no one could follow her back.

She knew she to speak very clearly if she wanted to get out in the right place. She called out as she stepped into the flames and threw the floo powder on the ground. She was whisked away in a burst of bright green fire. And spat out on her hands and knees in a dingy pub, The Leaky Cauldron.

She rose to her feet as gracefully as she could and let her eyes sweep the pub. Head held high, she narrowed her eyes at anyone still looking at the girl who fell out of the Floo. One man at a table close to her even flinched as their eyes met and he quickly turned away. She pursed her lips slightly but didn't let emotion colour her face. She approached the barkeep.

"Monsieur, 'ow do I get into ze Alley?" She asked as he dried a cup on a filthy cloth.

She would never eat or drink here.

"Oh, this way little miss. I'll show you the way." He moved out from behind the bar and showed her though a door that led to an alley behind the pub.

She reached for her wand and watched the man as he turned away from her and tapped on the bricks on one of the walls. The bricks shifted, revealing the shops behind it. Colour and sound assaulted her as she took in the bustling streets.

"And zat," She pointed to the tall marble building slightly reminiscent of the Roman Pantheon. "Zat is the Gringotts?"

"Oh, yes Miss. I'm Tom by the way, if you need any directions don't hesitate to ask. You know where I'll be." He answered cheerfully pointing over his shoulder back the way they came.

"Merci, Monsieur Tom." She gave him a half nod over her shoulder and set off for the Bank.

She had to weave to get through the many people out shopping before she reached the steps of the bank. It was a grand, imposing building with burnished bronze doors big enough for an elephant to walk through. Then there was a short entry way before she came across another set of doors, this time silver. Engraved into them were the words:

**Enter, stranger, but take heed**

**Of what awaits the sin of greed**

**For those who take, but do not earn,**

**Must pay most dearly in their turn.**

**So if you seek beneath our floors**

**A treasure that was never yours,**

**Thief, you have been warned, beware**

**Of finding more than treasure there.**

The beings guarding the doors were dressed in scarlet and gold uniforms, holding pikes leaning against one shoulder. If they weren't squat, wrinkled and so clearly not-human they would have reminded her of the guards outside Buckingham palace with the tall furry hats. They bowed to her as she approached and she nodded back, as she entered the bank proper.

More of the little creatures moved back and forth between the many high tables that were filled with yet more goblins all seeing to the wizards here to use the bank. The atrium had a vaulted ceiling and gold and crystal chandeliers hung above their heads.

Spotting a goblin who was not attending anyone, she marched up to him.

"May your gold flow freely." She began, looking up at the goblin who sat on a high stool.

Goblins didn't like to waste time so it was best to be direct. Her etiquette lessons had had a whole section on dealing with goblins efficiently. The goblin in question did a double take when he did notice her.

"May your gold flow freely." He greeted her back. "What is your business here today?"

"I wish to speak to the goblin in charge of my affairs." She slipped her vault key on to the desk in front of him.

The goblin picked it up and turned it in the light as he inspected it. His eyebrows rose and he looked at her again but this time with a wide, pointed-teeth filled grin. Supposedly that was a good sign so she squashed the shiver that tried to run up her spine.

"Right this way, Heiress Black. Griphook will show you the way." He handed her back her key motioning her to follow a different goblin.

She followed the goblin through another door, that closed heavily behind her, and walked down the stylish corridor. Griphook knocked on a door and waited a moment before opening it. She entered the dark room, lit only by three candles that sat on the large mahogany desk in ornate golden candleholders. Papers filled the desk in neat piles and behind it sat a slightly larger goblin.

"Heiress Black. I am Nagruk, Guardian of the Black Family Vaults." He stood as he introduced himself.

She walked into the room a step before stopping and felt the door closing behind her.

"Guardian of my Vaults, May your gold flow freely." She nodded to him.

His eyebrows rose and he motioned for her to take a seat.

"May your gold flow freely. Before we begin, we must ask that you pass a inheritance test. I'm sure you understand." He reached into a draw of his desk and pulled out a blank bit of parchment and an ornate athame.

She just nodded, pricking her finger on the knife and holding her bleeding finger over the page. Three drops later, she pulled her hand back and the goblin snatched the parchment away from her as it began to fill. He made a humming noise as it finished up. He put the parchment back in front of her and she leaned forwards in her seat slightly to read it.

**Heiress Alya Lilliana Black, Heiress of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, Heiress of the Ancient House of Gaunt, Noblesse uterine Maison Royale de Sanglierre.**

**Daughter of Regulus Arcturus Black of the Ancient and Noble House of Black.**

**Daughter of Lilliana Anne Sanglierre, Maison Royale de Sanglierre, Noblesse uterine and the Ancient House of Gaunt**

Beneath there was a family tree sprouting upwards from her at the very bottom. Her mother's father had been a squib but so had her mother's mother. A few more generations from magic but a squib none the less. That meant Petunia and Dudley were probably squibs as well. It was almost funny. Did that make her an actual Pureblood?

"Well Heiress Black it seems you are who you say you are. There are somethings we need to talk about." The goblin straightened and began writing something on a bit of paper.

It flew off as he threw it and it slipped under the door to who knew where.

"Yes, what does this mean Heiress? Aren't I just a lady of the Ancient Noble House of Black?" She scrunched up her eyebrows.

"When your great Grandfather died he left the headship to his son, your grandfather Orion Black." She nodded as he explained with a sinking feeling. "Orion Black only held the title for a few months before he died as well, leaving the position to your uncle, who never actually came to Gringotts to claim his birthright. Now your uncle is in Azkaban."

So that was where he was. She wanted to ask what Uncle Sirius had done because from her father's notes he had fought against You-Know-Who quite publicly, but she didn't want to interrupt. She'd already put it together in her head but she listened carefully in case she was wrong.

"You father would have been your Uncle's heir as he has no legitimate progeny of his own. As your father is dead you are now the Heiress to House Black, with all the titles, lands and moneys that come with it."

She sucked in a breath. She blinked.

"Do I have access to any of it? I am clearly a minor and will be for a while to come." She asked.

"You can elect someone as proxy until either you become of age or your Uncle dies, then you will be automatically emaciated." Nagruk informed her.

"No matter how old I am?"

"The Black family has no age restrictions of the age of their Head of House but they must be legally an adult. You will never hold the Head of House position yourself, being a woman. You will be Dowager Black until your oldest son comes of age, but the same rules stand."

She nodded briefly. She'd been informed of a ladies place in high society. She could hold a job if she wished but only if her husband agreed or she remained unmarried. She could get married once she had passed at least five Owls, which she would take place in her fifth year when she was fifthteen almost sixteen. If she was the sole heir then she would probably be expected to get married as soon as possible and begin having children.

She put that to one side for a second. She was ten, she didn't have to worry about husbands for a while yet.

"So my proxy deals with financial matters, stocks, shares and investments?" She waved a dismissive hand at the economics of it all.

"Yes, Heiress Black." Surprisingly patient for a goblin, she thought she had won points from her use of goblin etiquette.

"So what has it all been doing since my Grandfather died?"

The door opened as she asked and another goblin entered carrying a large file. He handed it to Nagruk and left the room without saying a word.

"Not a lot to be honest, Heiress Black. They have been left as they are for the last ten years." He flicked through the pages before turning it round to show her. "See, you own a mine that has long run dry and a number of failing businesses."

She huffed. She didn't know enough about money to even attempt to run it and this wasn't the kind of thing she could delegate to Kreature.

"I'll have to find someone appropriate and get back to you." She leant back slightly while keeping her back straight like her father's books said to. "And who of my relatives are still alive, pray tell?"

"Your Uncle of course. You have four cousins who walk free, Lady Narcissa Malfoy and her son, who is close to your own age, aswell as Andromeda Tonks who was disowned, and her daughter, who is in her last year of Hogwarts. You also have an elderly great Aunt. Cassiopeia Black."

She recognised all the names, from her fathers notes and was instantly wary of her cousins. They were very obviously on either side of the War and she really would like someone more neutral. She didn't want a Death Eater anywhere near her just yet and she didn't want to get to close too the Tonks' and make it seem like she was light affiliated. She'd wait to form a view on politics even if she did know a lot on the subject.

Her Aunt had potential though. And she was sure to have more up to date information on everyone. Her father had written at great length on how much he liked her and how she was funny and very occasionally kind but only to family. How she had kept files on everyone and anyone important in the wizarding world for blackmail purposes. If she was still alive then she was sure to be Alya's best option.

"If that is all, I wish to get money out of my trust fund. I'll be back later in the week with a Proxy to sort everything out." She didn't go to stand and instead waiting for the goblin to call for another escort.

"There is one thing you should probably be aware of." He flicked through the file again and pulled another sheet of paper out.

Skimming it to get a jist of what it was, she paused and began to read it properly again.

"This is a marriage contract, I assume it's active then?" She didn't look up but the goblin grunted in the affirmative. "And who are the Princes now?"

"The contract was written up to take place between your Grandfather, Orion Arcturus Black and one Eileen Nicolette Prince. She ran away, so your Grandfather married your grandmother, but the language of the contract allowed it to activate again should a male and a female of those lines be of an appropriate age." Nagruk explained.

'Appropriate age' was different in the wizarding world than in the muggle one. It probably only assured her that he wasn't yet sixty.

"We have tried to contact the other party, one Severus Snape but so far our efforts haven't born fruit." He continued.

Severus Snape, her parents friend and someone her mother thought she could trust but maybe only so far. She'd need more information on him as soon as possible.

"You're trying to contact him about this?" And she waved the parchment slightly.

"Oh no, Heiress Black. His Grandfather died almost six months ago now and with his son predeceasing him, his Grandfather named him Heir in his Will. He must come to Gringotts to claim his title and his end of the contract within two months or his assets will be claimed by the Ministry." He sneered at the thought of the Ministry getting what was likely a large sum of money.

She pursed her lips in thought.

"Will you owl me if he does accept, I would like to discuss the contract." The goblin nodded. "May I have a copy of this?"

Nagruk snapped his fingers and a copy of the marriage contract appeared on the table. She handed back the original and picked up her copy. She had to fold it to put it in the pocket of her robes.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Nagruk-Nur." She bid him goodbye.

Soon she was escorted to her vault by another goblin who handed her a pouch after the long roller-coaster-ish ride. She filled it with Galleons from the mountainous pile her father had left her.

"May I call my house elf down here?" She asked politely.

The goblin sneered at her.

"Only in your vault and only when it's open." He grunted back.

She nodded and called for Kreature.

"Take the money you will need to stock the pantry and everything else. You are in charge of food and cleaning supplies. I'm going shopping now, I should be home soon."

"Yes Mistress Alya." Kreature bowed, snapped his fingers and coins floated into his raggedy pillowcase.

"And wash your pillow case or find a new one. You are representing House Black." She probably should have told him to do that sooner.

His ears flapped slightly before he had popped away again and she made her way out of Gringotts. It had been an eventful day and it wasn't even noon yet.

88880000008888

The pantry was fully stocked. Her wardrobe had everything a Pureblood Princess should have. Her own room had been cleaned and fully furnished with pieces from the house. The house itself was approaching presentable. No longer was it covered in dust. No longer was it infested with Doxies. No longer was it quite as dark or as dank or as smelly.

It still ebbed and flowed with Dark oppressive magic but she had grown used to the feel of the place and how to walk around without touching anything that might try to bite or infect or rot away her flesh. She could tell which objects were likely to kill a person just from the feel of the magic surrounding it. She thought it was excellent practise and told her Grandmother's portrait so.

Walburga Black seemed quite pleased that someone liked her collection, unlike her useless son, meaning her Uncle Sirius. She'd learnt from Kreature what Sirius had done to end up in Azkaban and had to use all her Occlumency to not react as he told her. Her Uncle had betrayed the Potters, her mother, and gave away their location to the Dark Lord. Then he'd killed their other friend and a whole bunch of muggles. He could rot for all she cared.

After a week of righting the house and researching everything she could about the end of the War and what had happened after, she was ready to visit her Aunt. She even learnt a few facts about what had happened in magical France in recent memory just to cover her bases. It seemed Kreature had still received a copy of the Daily Prophet every day and had been holding them in the library. She gathered her courage and asked Kreature to pop her to Aunt Cassiopeia's cottage out in Wales somewhere.

She had worn a plain but expensive deep blue robe to meet her relative. She ran a hand down to straighten it when they landed in the middle of the country a few feet from the wards. Pulling out her wand she pushed a small portion of her magic through her wand to 'ring the doorbell'. The wards echoed after a moment and she looked down at Kreature, who was looking better in himself even if he was still bent over and slightly decrepit looking. The being nodded at her and she pushed the wrought iron gates open and walked up the short path.

They were met at the door by another house elf. This one had a pristine pressed pillowcase and stood tall for an elf.

"Who is it visiting Mistress?" The elf asked.

"Her Great Niece, Alya Black." She announced and the elf nodded leading them into a drawing room.

"I's telling her you's is here." The Elf popped away leaving her standing there.

It was only a minute before the elf came back. "You's following me."

It turned away and began leading them deeper into the house and up the stairs. She was led into her Aunt bedroom and immediately she knew the woman had to be very ill not to meet them downstairs.

One look at her proved the truth of the supposition. She was pale and her hair hung lax on the pillowcase, she had been sat up but Alya could tell she probably hadn't done it by herself. The elf rushed to her Mistress's side and lifted the cup of water to her lips and the woman took a tentative sip, waving Alya into the room and to the chair that sat to one side to the bed.

"My grand niece, you say? Who's are you then?" She rasped, her voice gravelly.

"I am Regulus's daughter, ma'am." She curtsied before she took the seat beside the dying woman.

"Ha!" She barked and then coughed, distressing her elf. "I knew he found someone. Towards the end there, he changed. I knew it. Who's your mother then?"

"Lilliana Sanglierre, ma'am. He sent us to France shortly after they married."

Her Aunt wheezed and coughed again as she nodded. "Where is she? Hmmm?"

She paused, taking a small gulp and pinching the muscles in her face as though holding back on crying, before answering, "Dead, ma'am. Almost five months now. It's why I had to make ze journey to England alone."

The woman's eyes narrowed slightly. "All the way from France on your own?"

"Yes ma'am. With my trunk and Mere's wand I travelled here from Bordeaux." She nodded, keeping her hands neatly clasped in her lap.

"That sounds quite dangerous, Dear. Do you know how to use it? You're not old enough for school yet." Her wheezing quietened for a minute as she waited for a reply.

Alya looked down to the wand in her pocket. She frown minutely.

"Some." She settled.

The woman laughed then. They soon became coughs and the House elf held the water up to her Mistress again. It took a minute for her Aunt to get her breathing under control. Alya sat there, trying to keep a blank face but couldn't help look slightly worried.

"Get my niece some tea, Miffy." She waved off her Elf and it popped away to set a tea tray. "That must have all been quite harrowing, my dear."

"I had to get to England and attend 'Ogwarts." She said nodding.

"A fine institute. Not as fine as it once was." She shrugged and took a deep breath.

The house elf popped back with tea and began to serve Alya.

"So what are you doing here? Come to watch an old girl die?" Cassiopeia watched her as she took a sip of tea.

She refused to be shocked and decided to just tell the woman watch she wanted.

"I need more information about ze English. Who is who here? And I need a financial proxy until I'm of age." She sighed. "I do not have any allies here."

The older witch pursed her lips in thought. She looked Alya up and down once more. "And you trust me?"

"Father gave Mere scrolls to give to me with information on all of the family. What every one thought and who I could maybe trust. Father thought you would keep an eye on me if only because we are family. He wrote a lot about Grandmother and her portrait is exactly as expected." She smirked.

Her Aunt smirked back nodding before looking slightly pensive.

"Most of the families gone now, and I wouldn't trust Malfoy as far as I could throw him with my own two arms." She hummed to herself. "Your father was never one for lots of friends and none of them you'd want helping you. Except maybe one."

When she didn't say anymore Alya prodded.

"Severus Snape? Because I have business with him." She questioned, digging for information on the man.

"Oh?" Was all the woman said.

She nodded. "His Grandfather named him the Prince heir before he died and the Goblins 'ave been trying to get 'im to claim 'is title, with no luck. But our Houses have a marriage contract between us." She was going to go on and inform her Aunt how she hoped she could persuade him to agree to void the contract if he decided on making his claim when she was interrupted.

"Oh yes you'll have to marry soon." Alya almost scoffed but something in the woman's voice made her question it.

"What do you mean?"

Her Aunt looked at her for a moment before she sighed and muttered to herself "Of course you don't know."

"Miffy, bring me my Black Family Magic Grimoire." She demanded sending the elf off again. "This should be yours now, Walburga probably burnt her copy, the mad harridan."

The elf popped back with a thin leather bound book.

"As I'm sure you know, all the most ancient Families have Family Magic. Spells and Potions that only the members of the Family are ever privy too. Only the most ancient have Family Gifts that are past down, a vestige from our past times when we were all more closely related to the magical creatures from which humans received magic." This was not something she'd heard before and leaned in to listen closely, storing the obviously important information. "While occasionally descendants of the Black Family have gifts such as metamorphmagitry or an aptitude for fire magic, the direct line holds a two part gift. A wild magic, a destructive magic. Most of the magic is held by the Head of the Family and the rest is held by the Heir. This small wild magic that is in you now as Heiress is fine but when you reach you magical maturity could effect your mind."

"You mean I would go crazy?" She whispered.

"Most likely, dear. The same could be said if your uncle kicks the bucket, the magic would leave him and fall to you. It's not magic meant for women, it would also eventually make you infertile, which would be disastrous." She sighed and handed her the book. "This is everything a Lady of House Black should know about practising Black Family Magic."

"So I must produce an Heir before I turn seventeen?" She took the book in her grasp but didn't open it yet.

Her Aunt hummed an affirmative, watching her like a hawk. Alya took a deep breath and pushed her emotions aside to sort through later. With this new information, what did she need to do? That was more important. What would be bettr for her, not how did she feel about something_, in her tenderest of hearts._ Pah!

"This Severus Snape, what do you know of him?"

"He's in a difficult position, that boy." She wheezed as she took a deep breath. "Joined the Dark Lord right out of school or possibly before hand. Probably regretted it as soon as that monster branded him. Likes to stand on his own two feet but doubted he could get himself very far, being Half-blood and a Slytherin. One or the other and he would have been fine but not both. He started spying for Dumbledore at some point towards the end of the War. The old coot has probably got something on him. Now he's the Potions Professor at Hogwarts."

Alya nodded.

"Claiming his Lordship could get him out from under the Headmaster's thumb somewhat." Cassiopeia muttered to herself. "Or give the Old Goat even more power to play with."

"Would he be an acceptable match?" Alya questioned.

Surely she would end up as trapped between two parties as he was. It was not the neutral position she had wanted. Even if the War had been over for the last ten years, everything she'd read in the newspapers and learnt about what was going on, the world was still separated between the two camps. Between Dumbledore and the Dark Lord even if everyone thought he was dead.

Although, he would end up being the most informed person when The Dark Lord came back. And he'd have quite a bit of political influence if he claimed his lordship, add her own power as Heiress Black and probably Regent Black some day.

"Your children would be Half-bloods but I think Snape has helped everyone conveniently forget. I always believed Toujours Pur was about more that ones blood lineage. Only the most conservative could disagree with the match." Her Aunt hummed and watched her with a raised eyebrow.

Alya nodded. Really she had to have a discussion with the man, preferably soon. He had less than two months to claim his lordship or the Ministry would take everything.

"Miffy, bring me my files labelled R-S." Her Aunt ordered.

The Elf popped back in and handed her Aunt a large file. She opened it and flicked through sheets of parchment. She pulled one out.

"Here, everything I know about Snape." She handed her a few sheets of parchment.

Alya nodded and took it, slipping it into the book her Aunt had already given her. She'd finished her tea and looking at her Aunt she could tell that the woman was tired.

"I will look all these over and come back in a few days, Aunt." She stood and straightened her robes.

"Be sure that you do. An old Lady like myself is in much need of the company."

Alya curtsied and backed out the room while the Elf began to fuss over her Aunt. Kreature was waiting outside the door. They showed themselves out and Kreature popped her home once they had left the Wards. She had things to read, and a letter to write.


End file.
